I spent one morning last week doing one of my very favorite things in the whole world: sitting on the beach and watching my small people play. For me, the beach is a sensory experience – the second I arrive, I’m overwhelmed by goodness. I love the salty smell, the sounds of the waves hitting the shore, the feel of warm sand between my toes and every time I’m mesmerized by the sight of the ocean as it exhibits the power that only it can.
Living in the middle of the country means we don’t often have the luxury of this sensory overload – and as my small people hit the sand and take off like mini-beach-missiles, I find myself, once again, longing to live on the coast.
They run.
They jump.
They dance.
They leap.
They pitch sand. (of course they do).
They construct sandcastles.
And play beautifully with each other.
They sprint to the water and race to me, fingers speckled in the gold flecks that I have only ever seen here in San Diego on Coronado Island.
Screams of, “I’m rich!” punctuate the soft whoosh of the waves as the tide moves in. And then they are gone again, compelled to catch the gold as though it will buy them out of the years of school they have in their future.
But then they discover a plethora of sand dollars. And by plethora, I mean more than I have ever seen in one place at one time. Big ones, medium sized and teeny-tiny – all flecked with the same gold that decorates the sand.
Now THIS is rich. King Neptune has coughed up his treasure, drizzling it on the shores of Coronado for my children to gather, sand sliding between their fingers as they pick up one, then two, then a third… struggling to juggle their bounty in little hands.
And I am stuck. They are like wild children – their energy boundless.
I’m lucky. A witness to their joy. They are in love with life. And it loves them right back…. the sun, the surf, the sand… kissing their hair, caressing their toes.
I marveled at their amazement as a baby sea lion waddled from the surf just feet away from us, taking cover in the nearby rocks.
I’m mentally capturing this moment, trapping it like time in a bottle. It is always here that I am most reflective. I can hit pause and reset.
Where does their energy come from? Can I have some? Why can’t all kids have what they have?
Watching them overwhelms me with gratitude. And reaffirms my resolve to both push them to grow from carefree small people into big people who effect change and care about the world around them and to continue to model that behavior for them.
I think more kids deserve to have the same energy… the same carefree love of life. Funny to think it can start with something as small as breakfast, but it does. By now, (if you’ve spent any time on this site) you know child hunger is something I have written about many times and you also know my family and I are big fans of Kellogg’s – not only for breakfast, but for the work they do to SHARE BREAKFAST with hungry kids. It isn’t just what they put on our table in the morning, but what they do for kids who need the same kind of energy my small people already have. This is my second year working with Kellogg’s and I’ve been delighted to watch the progress of the Share Breakfast campaign…as I write, they are this close to being half way to their goal of donating one million breakfasts to children in need.
And one of the most extraordinary things about Share Breakfast? You can help simply by spreading the message. Tweet the message. Pin it. Watch the video with the amazing celebrity Taye Diggs. It is estimated that one in five kids is hungry. ONE IN FIVE. That is absurd. If they are hungry – they don’t have the energy to play and experience joy they way my small people were doing on the beach. And they definitely don’t have the ability to focus so they can learn in the classroom.
It’s so simple. Click. Watch. And Share.
Thank you.
As I mentioned above, I do work with Kellogg’s, however, all thoughts and opinions on this site are always the reflection of my own opinions.
When I was little, Superheroes wore capes and masks. They had hidden identities. By day they were average….living life, blending in to the every day. By night they were doing the extraordinary. They were saving lives and avenging the wronged. Rescuing the lost and making wrong right again.
“She’s doing what?”
Year-round we move from the court to the field to the diamond. He dives for the perfect catch from his position between 3rd and 2nd. As midfielder, she rears back and kicks with everything her 52 pound body will allow. He jumps for the save as it glances off the striker’s cleat. She wiggles and sets her stance as she enters the batter’s box.
I’m not sure what the weather is like in your part of the country, but here in St. Louis, it has been rough. Fourteen inches of snow this past Monday has now melted into a sloppy mess. This means our fields and diamonds are the equivalent of a mud bath. So, you know what else I get to teach my small people? How to do the laundry. Just last week my small girl started asking for lessons. As it stands now, my husband and I share duties, but I happen to know I have a little more expertise – and a little more desire to see the uniform stains disappear.
Seeing my mom with her girl hurt my heart. Telling my small people? Oh, this motherhood gig is a bear. Delaney’s eyes watered, she asked questions and she hugged me. But Cooper? Well, I used the phrase, ‘put her to sleep’…. so naturally, my six year old asked, “Well, ok, Mommy, but how long will she have to be asleep?” I don’t know that I could describe his look of shock and anguish when I explained that she was actually going to die because she is so sick.
Take Valentine’s, for example. We always buy them. Easy, right? Take them to the store, let them pick their poison. And then stand over them as they sign their name to each one. But this year was different. I actually asked them if they wanted to do personalized Valentines.
I am giddy just thinking about how proud I am of my sweet girl. I’ve told you before that 
